


Nighttime Stories at The Lodging House

by Calpolboi



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Animal Death, Death, Gen, Irish Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calpolboi/pseuds/Calpolboi
Summary: There was a war of nature raging outside. No one wanted to be there. But Jack Kelly had an idea.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Nighttime Stories at The Lodging House

**Author's Note:**

> Tw - Animal Death
> 
> Jack Kelly is Irish according to the Newsies novel and revised script. So I may have gone a little wild making up headcanons about that!
> 
> So the question is, what if Jack Kelly knew a few Irish legends. About the same amount as a teenager who went through the Irish primary school system?

"What are we meant to do now?"

Jack turned his head away from the window, where he was watching the storm getting heavier and heavier. Sleet, rain, thunder and lightning, the works. 

All of the newsies, young and old were stuck together inside with the war raging outside. It wasn't normal to have every newsies together at once, hell the last time that happened it was probably the rally at Medda's. But now every selling newsie in Manhattan had congregated into the one small, rundown lodging house.

They all knew about the weather sure, it was the morning headline. Kloppman had spent the day gathering supplies and fixing up holes just in case. But no one had anticipated how bad it would turn. David and Les were stuck with them, not having enough time to run home. They had barely made it through the front door, Les in tears thinking it was the end of days. They had no way to make it home now and no way to tell their family they were okay.

Jack looked around to see many of the younger newsies bleary eyed and fearful. A look of heavy concern fell on the older newsies. If they couldn't make today's money how could they pay for tomorrow's papers? What about rent, clothes, even food?

David was muttering to Les in rapid fire Polish from what Jack could make out. Skittery was holding Tumbler's hand, letting him curl up beside him every time a strike of thunder clattered outside. Even Race had let Snipeshooter borrow his cigar to chew on. But no lighting. God help them if they had a fire on top of a storm to deal with.

All of their kids were accounted for, and more. Even the kids who'd sleep on the statue were inside. That's when it struck Jack- he hoped Spot's kids were safe. Brooklyn was bigger and by the water. No matter how big them Brooklyn boys were, nothing could stop mother nature.

"Jack? Jack!?" Crutchy began shaking Jack's shoulder lightly. 

"Jacky you there?" 

"Yeah, where else would I be?" Jack said, rubbing his eyes. Jack wasn't a fan of the rain. Much rather be somewhere warmer, with lots of air and-

"Jack? You gotta stay with us." Jack turned to Crutchy standing next to him, biting his lip. Whether he was scared like the rest of them or the pain from his leg was too much, Jack wasn't quite sure. Cold weather wasn't much good for anyone, especially Crutchy. 

"What should we do now Jack?" 

Jack wasn't exactly sure who asked that question but he knew he had to say something. Either that or let everyone cry themselves to sleep and they didn't need more water leaking into the place.

"Lads we can't be crying over some rain!" Jack forced a cheerful voice, turning to face the rest of the kids.

"We're newsies! Manhattan newsies! And newsies don't back down!" 

There were some light murmurs in agreement. Alright, he was getting somewhere. 

"And what do newsies do best?"

A few shouted back "Sell! Make the headline good! Bet! Strike! Shoot marbles!"

Okay that last one was definitely Boots.

"Yes, all true. But what about sticking together? Defending each other? Ain't no one as good as us newsies at being loyal. No matter what!"

More people began nodding. Good. Jack had an idea what to ask next.

"Have I ever told yous the story of the great Setanta?" Jack announced to the room.

Many of the boys began shaking their heads, making Jack grin. 

"Well would yous like to hear it? Or is it too good of a story to tell?"

"Who was he?" Les jumped up from David's lap, excitement ringing in his voice.

"Only the greatest warrior in the whole of Ireland ever! But maybe if you guys would rather talk about something else-" 

Many of the boys began to clamour to hear more.

"Go on Jack! Tell us about this Setanta guy!"

"This ain't one of your make believe Irish kid stories is it Jack?" Kid Blink pressed, smiling while nudging Jack. 

"Far from it Blink! Setanta is only one of the most fearless heroes of all time! Almost offended you'd say that!" Jack said in a mocking tone while grinning back.

The boys started to shout Jack's praises until Blink said "Okay! Just make it a good one Cowboy." winked and sat down next to Mush.

"Well okay- but you all need to be sitting down for this." Jack pulled over a chair and sat, indicating for the others to do the same.

A few of the younger newsies sat front and center for Jack, besides from Tumbler who opted to stay right by Skittery. Soon all of the boys were either huddled on the floor or various chairs and beds, keeping close for warmth.

Jack shushed his audience and cleared his voice.

"A very long time ago, there lived a boy named Setanta. Now, when he was seven years old he was determined to become a member of the famous Red Branch Knights of Ulster. His dad, the King of Dundalk, had told him about the special school in Armagh, called the 'Macra' for the young boys who would one day join the brave warriors." 

Whispers began to circle the room, many of the young boys telling each other how they were like Setanta.

"Now, Setanta pleaded with his parents to let him go there and join but they refused. They told him 'You are much too young Setanta. Wait a little longer and then and then we'll allow you to go'" Jack continued.

"That ain't fair!" Tumbler jumped up from Skittery's side declaring it to the room. Many of the boys agreed as Jack nodded his head. 

"You're right Tumbler, and Setanta thought the same thing." Jack assured him. 

"Setanta decided he couldn't wait any longer and so one day he set off for Armagh. It was a long journey but Setanta had his hurley and sliotar to play with. He hit the sliotar far ahead and ran forward to catch it on his hurley stick before it hit the ground."

"What's a hurley?" questioned Snipeshooter.

"Eh, kind of like a baseball you play low with." Race answered. A few of the boys turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"I heard about it from Spot! Don't shoot the messenger." Race shrugged and turned back to Jack, willing him to go on. 

Race wouldn't admit it but he loved hearing these stories about his own culture that was so lost to him. His own dear mamma would never even mention his father's past life when she was around. If it wasn't for Spot he wouldn't even know what his surname meant. "Higgins" wasn't the most Italian surname after all.

Jack nodded and went on. "When Setanta reached the Castle of King Connor in Armagh he found a hundred and fifty boys of the Macra gathered in front of the castle. Some of them were playing hurling and since it was his favourite game he hurried over to join in. Almost immediately he scored a brilliant goal!"

"Good for him!" said Crutchy, joined with a murmuring of agreement from the rest of the kids.

"But the other boys were furious that this young boy had joined their game uninvited and they attacked him! Tried to soak him through!"

"That's not right!" Les cut in. "All he wanted to do was play!" 

Several of the boys nodded their heads and some were shouting "Here here!"

"Ah but you see Les, how'd you feel if someone started selling on your turf without telling you?" Jack asked.

"But Jack, playing and working are two different things." Mush said, eyes wide open.

"Not to some of these boys." Jack replied in a dark tone. "Trust me, a game of hurling could be life or death. But! Setanta fought bravely. The noise disturbed the king who was playing chess."

"Huh, reminds me of someone…" David said softly.

"Oh believe me Davey, this king was a lot better than Pulitzer. Anyway, he sent a servant outside to see what was happening. Quickly, Setanta was brought before the king."

Jack repositioned himself, knelt on one leg and pretended to speak up to an imaginary king; 

"I am Setanta, son of the King of Dundalk, your brother. I have come all this way to join the Macra because I want to become one of the Red Branch Knights as soon as I am old enough.

The king liked Setanta's brave words and welcomed him to the Macra. Time passed quickly for Setanta. He loved his new life at the Macra. Hey, reminds me of some of you boys when yous first got here." Jack gazed over the boys remembering the first time he met some of them. He snapped out of his short daydream and continued;

"One day, Culann, the blacksmith who made spears and swords for Connor invited the king, his Knights and Setanta to a feast. When it was time to set off for the feast, Setanta was playing a game of hurling. He told the King that he would follow as soon as the game was done. The feast began and Connor forgot to mention that Setanta would be joining the party later. Thinking all his guests had arrived, the blacksmith unchained his wolfhound which guarded his house each night."

"Uh oh" breathed Swifty. 

"Uh oh is right." Jack agreed "Well you can guess what happened next."

"Doesn't involve them fair you were on about before?" asked Bumlets, eyebrow raised.

"I promise not every Irish legend involves the fae lads. Now, as soon as the game was over Setanta set out. When he arrived at Culann's House he heard the deep growls of the wolfhound."

Jack started to imitate the voice of a hound growling and seething.

"Suddenly the hound leapt forward out of the dark to attack! Setanta saw the sharp teeth barred. With all his strength Setanta hurled his sliotar down the hounds throat. Then he caught the animal by its hind legs and dashed it against a rock. With a loud groan the wolfhound fell down, dead. Inside, the feast party has heard the dog growling."

"Why did he have to kill him!?" Tumbler whispered. Jack shook his head, regaining reality. 

"Sorry Tumbler but that's just how it happened. Don't mean Setanta was a bad person, he just wanted to survive." said Jack. 

Jack damn well knew how Setanta felt.

"You wouldn't have killed the dog, would you Jack?" asked Boots.

"Me? Course not! Why, me and the dog probably would've become best friends! Probably give me a ride on his back like them horses like to."

The boys began to laugh at the idea of Jack taking a ride on top of a dog like he did to the circus' horse.

Jack glanced over to David, willing him to not say anything about the time he got so spooked by a cat he fell down their fire escape. David looked back at him and winked. 

"Alright!" Jack cleared his voice. He again put on an impression but this time, of a hysterical king.

"My nephew Setanta," Connor cried. "I forgot about him." He and the Red Branch Knights rushed out expecting to find the young boy torn to pieces. Connor was amazed and delighted to find his nephew alive and he was proud of his great strength." Culann was relieved that the boy was safe but he was sad that he'd lost the wolfhound he loved which had faithfully guarded his house every night.

"Let me take the place of your hound until I have trained one of its puppies." said Setanta. Culann agreed. From that day on Setanta was called Cú Chulainn which means the Hound of Culainn."

"So was his name Cú Chulainn or Setanta?" Snipeshooter asked.

"Well both, but he was known as Cú Chulainn after that night. Like how I'm Jack and Cowboy. But his name from that day on struck fear in all the hearts of his enemies!" 

"Hey, Cú Chulainn kind of sounds like Conlon." Crutchy noted to Jack.

"Yeah but could Spot Conlon defend Ulster single-handedly at seventeen against the armies of Queen Meab of Connacht?" said Jack.

"Change Ulster to Brooklyn then maybe he would." Boots muttered.

David let out his notorious hearty laugh, which in turn made everyone else laugh.

"Jack! Can you tell us about him fightin' Queen Meab?" Les asked through his giggles.

"Maybe one of these nights but now I gotta check something with Kloppman." Jack stood up to leave the room. A lot of the younger newsies and even some of the older newsies audibly groaned.

"Lads, what if Race got us set up with some kind of card game huh?" Jack looked over to Race as he nodded back. 

"No poker!" was the last thing Jack announced before leaving the room.

As he closed the door he could already hear Dutchy accusing Specs of looking at his cards and Blink telling him Specs doesn't have the eyesight for that. 

"Like you can say anything!" with a crash and a bang, he could hear Itey shouting in Spanish and Skittery yelling "Tumbler get that OUT of your mouth!" continued with the lads laughing.

Jack smiled. He didn't really need to go talk to Kloppman but maybe he could help him border up some walls. Didn't like staying around other people after telling a story much. He liked reflecting on his stories, trying to be one of the characters and spending too much time daydreaming.

"Jack?" He could feel a light hand on his shoulder.

"Heya Davey." Jack didn't even need to look behind him, he knew that voice anywhere.

"You want help with Mr. Kloppman or anything?" David asked.

Jack shook his head "Nah, nah it's all good. Just wanted to see if he needed me to make a run for anything outside."

"Yeah and contract some kind of illness while out there in the wet." David said sarcastically.

Jack laughed. "You know me, always running." 

David stared at Jack for a moment. 

"I liked your story tonight. Was it real?" David asked.

"Probably more real than the time Cú Chulainn fell in love with a fairy who was being attacked by the sea and then this woman shook a cloak between them so he'd forget about her." Jack shrugged his shoulders. 

"Uh, what?" David cocked his eyebrow as Jack laughed.

"That's not the worst of it, wait till you hear about the time a guy burned his thumb on a salmon and then knew everything."

"Jack Kelly you cannot be serious."

"Hey you're kind of our own salmon of knowledge huh Davey." 

"Yeah, sure thing Cowboy." 

"Watch yourself Mouth."

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets, hoping for some heat to radiate in. David smiled back at him. 

"So, got any more stories to tell? Where'd you get them?" He said as he leaned over the staircases rickety banister.

Jack shook his head, "Nah, only on special nights like these. I can remember my Mam telling me all sorts of stories when I was younger, some weirder than that. Irish legends, they have a way of being remembered no matter what." With a sigh Jack continued,

"The younger boys like them and the older ones well, sometimes I think they like having an empty mind is all."

As if on cue another crackling thunder bolt hit outside.

"Probably won't be having an empty mind for long. Seems like we're gearing up for a rough Winter." 

"Well." Jack took his hand out of his pocket and put it around David's shoulder. 

"Can't get any worse."

**Author's Note:**

> While I continue with this? Who knows!  
> Let's just say Irish Newsies is very close to my heart. I hope you enjoyed this! <3


End file.
